


Tortured History

by afrakaday



Category: Battlestar Galactica, Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-07 03:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1114763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afrakaday/pseuds/afrakaday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a <a href="http://bsg-epics.livejournal.com">bsg_epics</a> Inspiration Day prompt, <i>what if Laura and Bill had known one another before the attacks</i>?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tortured History

“Here’s your agenda for the trip to the _Galactica_ , Madam Secretary.”

Billy clutched the folder awkwardly, uncertain as to whether he should place it in her inbox or hand it to her. Laura pushed her hair out of her eyes and looked up at him as she held out her hand and took it.

“Thank you, Billy.”

“On the left you’ll see your schedule for the decommissioning. A pretty full schedule as soon as we get on the ship. Then on the right there’s some historical information about the ship, some marketing materials for the museum, and a dossier on Commander Adama.”

Laura’s heart skipped a beat. “Who?”

“The commander of the _Galactica_. William Adama.”

Laura paged through the folder until she caught a glimpse of a familiar craggy visage with a soul-deep stare. She snapped the folder shut and lined it up in the center of her blotter.

“Fine. Call me when the car gets here to take us to the spaceport.”

Billy nodded, cheeks flushed and obviously relieved at his dismissal. “Of course.”

Once he had closed the door to her office behind him, Laura drew a shaky breath and opened the folder once more.

William Adama. _Bill_ Adama...

She’d been in her early twenties when the war-worn merchant marine had spotted her across the bar and not left her side until the following morning. Unfortunately, it had taken until their fourth date in as many weeks, when he left his wallet out on her kitchen counter and curiosity got the better of her, that she discovered that he was married, with a young child at home.

Bill had been her first married fling, but not her last, she recalled with a heavy heart, thinking about her argument with the President just hours earlier. 

At least she was always the one to break things off.

She would never forget his sad, guilty look and subsequent shamed flight when he came into her kitchen wearing nothing but a towel slung low around his waist and found her standing there holding his son’s picture. She’d thrown his wallet at his head and told him to get out.

A shrill telephone ring drew her out of her melancholic reverie. It was painful to look at the photograph of him, too enticing to see what he’d been up to in the intervening years, so she tossed the folder into her wastebasket as she picked up the handset.

“I was diagnosed with cancer this morning,” she blurted out in response to her aide’s request that she come down to the waiting car. “I’m not going to the decommissioning.”


End file.
